If You're Bored(GerIta LEMON)
by wolfbecca
Summary: My first ever lemon, and my first fanfiction published to here. This has a plot, kinda... Kinda... Anyways, I don't know what else to put! Please review! Italy really needs to find a hobby, that isn't picturing Germany, or involving Germany whatsoever. Cause it seems that everything to do with him, leads to the poor Italian having a 'problem'.


_I hated it. Hated, hated, hated. Training, at least his way, seemed like the most pointless thing ever. I never understood how the man could do it! Fully clothed, in uniform, and running 5 miles. Every. Single. DAY. He is so handsome though. The way his hair is falling in front of his face slightly, disheveled. The way his stern face glistens with slight moisture… Oh no, please tell me I'm not thinking that way again!_

Italy sat in the bushes, now blushing head to toe. Not only had his squeak of surprise alerted Germany to his absence, but brought him far enough into reality to realize, he had a raging boner, and it hurt. The German began looking around, and Italy quickly spotted this. _Oh Dio, gotta go._ He quietly crawled out of his hiding spot in the bushes, then ran across the yard, and ducked in the house. Hurrying to hide this problem, he ran upstairs just in time to hear the blonde's voice. "ITALY! Where are you?!" Italy quickly changed into a long shirt, and took off the belt. "Upstairs, I'll be right down!" Germany wasn't going to wait, quickly climbing the steps and arriving at the door. "Italy…" Italy whipped around, smiling. "Doistu, you gonna get ready for the meeting?" Germany was about to pounce on the weakling, then remembered himself. Eyes widening in surprise, he nodded. "You remembered the meeting, but I didn't? Ach, I mean, I'm getting ready." Italy giggled, then waited for him to leave to sigh. _It. Hurts._ He sat on the bed, fixing his shirt. It looked a little raggedy to wear a long white shirt and uniform pants. _It'll have to do. I'm already dying. I would welcome even Russia to help me now! _He got up, and met Germany. "Let's go Italia." Italy nodded, and they left.

The meeting was normal. Russia sat there, though he suspiciously eyed the fidgeting Italy. Spain was 'discreetly' rubbing Romano's thigh, while said Italian was growling, a severe blush on his face. England and France were arguing over something petty, while America was talking to… to… Canadia about his and England's nightly activities. Prussia was doodling a very explicit picture of… of… Canoko laying on a bed. China, Japan, and the other Asian countries were talking about the new anime that had come out, Korea laying claim to all boobs of female characters. And then there was Germany, who was sternly doing paperwork. He'd long since given up on getting anything done internationally, but his own work was another matter. Italy shot a glare at him. _If you weren't always a tease, I wouldn't have this problem._ Italy couldn't sit still, the boner he had was painfully constricted. Eventually, England called a break, which Italy made a 10 second sprint to the bathroom.

Closing and locking a stall, he leaned against the wall, palming himself and moaning. "Hah, n-no fair!" _He's never phased, yet I'm always suffering from this type of thing!_ He continued doing so, then slipped a hand in his pants and boxers, rubbing his length slowly. Soft moans filled the stall, while his unoccupied hand reached for some toilet paper. _He thought of the German, shirtless, with beads of sweat rolling down him as he does push-ups. Then the German would look up, smirking deviously. 'Why Italy, you've got a problem.' He would get up, pinning the Italian to the wall, chuckling. 'Let me help you with that.' _"Ci, please…" Italy, lost in his own fantasy, didn't hear the door open, or the footsteps that led to the stall next to him. _The German would then strip him of his shirt, tearing it apart. He would then attack his neck. The Italian would squirm, claiming it hurts, but loving the pain. _"Ahhhn, please, quit teasing me!" The footsteps returned, but instead of leaving, remained outside of Italy's stall. _Smirking, the German removed his lips from Feliciano's neck. 'Italy, you deliberately skipped training. I'm going to have to punish you.' He would then rub the red-head's erection with his knee, his hand now going to the erect point on his chest. He'd twist it softly at first, then get rough, making Italy cry out._ "AH~"

Italy walked out of the restroom, fixing the collar of his shirt. _That was too vivid, and only gets worse. Veh…_ He was quick returning, only a few people left to come back. "Where were you at Italy?" Germany looked up from his paperwork. Italy, smiling, replied. "I had to pooo!" Germany, sighing at his childness, motioned for him to sit. "Just, sit down." Soon, the other countries filed in, Russia switching his seat to sit next to Italy. "Hello, comrade. Mind?" Italy shook his head. His fear of Russia depleted after he realized he was safe from the slightly lazy Russian, who refused to go through the mountains to attack him. "Nope! The seat's open!" Russia smiled, watching the Italian with interest. It didn't take long, this time it being America and France fighting, England chirping in his own opinions, and Denmark siding with France. After a few minutes, Russia tapped the Italian's shoulder. Italy leaned over. "So. Who were you thinking of in the bathroom?" Russia smirked, his whisper sounding as if he was asking what the answers were on the final. Italy turned crimson, flailing slightly to look at him, flabbergasted. "C-Che?!" Russia chuckled, and Germany glanced over. Continuing to whisper so only the Italian could hear, "I would hope it was me. It would certainly be granted if so." Italy couldn't go any darker after this, and responded squeaking. "I don't particularly need to reply to that, veh!" Russia gently grabbed the Italian's wrist, softly tugging on him. The Italian obliged, and leant towards the man. "No, but it was an offer. Would you come over tonight, to entertain my plight?" Italy, shocked by this, looked to the German. He was ignoring him now, working on the papers. _I can't believe Ivan is asking for a basic one-night stand!_ "Veh.. Sorry Russia, I don't do one night stands." He pulled away, but the Russian shrugged. "Ah, I'm sorry then. Maybe I'll try later." Italy nodded, going closer to his German now. _You do that, the answer still will be no._

The meeting ended without injury, though everyone was pissed, for various reasons. Italy, seeing this, stood up before they could leave. "Wait, everyone!" Everyone paused. "I call tomorrow we have a theme for dress!" Some now looked interested, and the others just stayed. "Tomorrow, we dress in the most noticeable clothing! Use whatever means, and whoever wins, will have a large cake, and gelato accompaniment made by me, to do whatever they like with! It will be baked to whatever flavor, and it will be 3 tier!" The nations all agreed, and England stepped forward. "Who will judge?" Italy smiled. "We'll all vote! At the end of the meeting tomorrow, we'll have a elimination, round based vote. Whoever survives all elimination rounds was the best dressed!" The nations agreed, and then left, chattering to each other. Germany appeared behind Italy. "Gut job Italy. This is just what we need to eliminate tensions between the nations." Italy turned around, ecstatic he got a compliment. "Thank you Doistu! Hey, will you be able to come over tonight? Or can I go to your place?" The German nodded. "I suppose you can come with me. I don't have much work to do, maybe we could try painting?" The Italian's mind quickly tried to fill with a very lewd picture, but he nodded it away. "I'd love to! Let's go!"

Germany hung both their coats up, motioning for Italy to head where ever. "Doistu, doistu, you haven't hugged me today!" The German grumbled. "Fine fine, over here." Italy flung onto him, sighing at the warmth. _Only if I was braver…_ The German hugged him back, chuckling. "So needy, Italy. Let's go paint now. Then I'll cook us some potatoes and steak?" Italy veh'd, letting go and dragging him to the art room. Getting out the paint canvases, and paintbrushes, Germany couldn't help but let his eyes wander to the tight fitting uniform pants. _He didn't wear the top of the uniform, or a belt, just the pants that emphasize that wonderfully ro- Verdammt Ludwig, pull yourself together!_ Italy turned around, setting up the easels. "Here doistu!" The blonde took the paint palette and brush, set it aside, and took off his uniform, leaving him in his tank. Italy's questioning look made him quickly explain himself. "Don't want to get paint on my uniform." Italy nodded, turning to his easel and beginning to paint. Germany picked up his, and grimaced. _Well, if he asks, I'll just say it's all I can imagine. It won't be a total lie, but my body seems to think it truthful._ He paints the outline of a very detailed person. The body and face is inviting, and oddly similar to his partner in art. Italy is too distracted, painting what he envisioned earlier, Germany doing push-ups. The painting itself was typical, though over detailed, but Italy's thought process wasn't. _Italyyyy, don't think too much, you'll end up with ANOTHER one!_

Eventually, the sun had set, and they stood back. Germany's painting was abstract in a way, but the pure lust from the person was very evident. Italy's… was obvious. The muscles, the face, the pose. Everything screams that the artist wants this being to come to life and be his, and Italy can only sigh. _He won't ever catch on…_ Germany looks over, and his eyes widen. "Wow, Italia." Italy snaps out of it, and blushes, as the German comes behind him to look at the picture. "S-sorry! I just ha-" "It's amazing. Danke, for letting me be your muse." The German smiles, and gives the Italian a short hug, before pulling away and sitting his art tools down. Italy can't help but smile like an idiot. _This is amazing! I love being with him…_ Italy puts his away, and looks at Germany's. "Yours is wonderful too doistu! The colors are amazing, and I can't help but feel like I know this person…." Ludwig coughed, blushing. "Meant to feel like that I suppose." Italy looked over, then stood on his tip toes to kiss the German's cheek. "Well, it's perfect." _Like everything._ The blonde becomes flustered, and shakes his head. "A-alright, let's go eat. Then I gotta get you home to get your outfit for tomorrow.

Italy woke up, yawning. It was only 6 A.M., but for him, it was way too early. But, he had a mission. _I WILL get him to notice me. If not, then I'll give up and go with someone else. I can't stand this dry spell._ Italy got out his 'outfit'. A thin see-through half-tank top in crimson red, which then had gothic lace to the pants line. Severely skinny black jeans, with ripped holes in it, that accentuated his butt. One small silver chain hooked on his pants, for looks. Then, a small dogs collar around his neck, with the tag labeled 'Italy'. And lastly, he slipped on a black leather vest and a pair of long army boots. Studying himself over, he smiled. _They'll notice me…_

Germany sat there, America, England, France, and the female nations drooling over him. He didn't have a shirt on, just a half-unbuttoned uniform of his that was black instead of green. His normal pressed green military pants were replaced by regular black suit pants, other than the fact they had 'German-Made' imprinted on the sides in fancy gold lace. He had a spiked collar on, his dog tags and cross attached to it, and was proudly wearing a police cap with a bullet hole in it. "Dude, Germany, you need to wear that every day!" Germany nodded in response, finding this all pointless without his intended target. The doors opened, and two people's attention. Italy smiled, waving. "Ciao everyone!" America's jaw dropped, and he nearly fell over himself, trying to get to the Italian. "Italy, whoa-ho-oh~ Dude, you look freaking rad!" America flashed his prize-winning smile, offering a hand to him. Italy took it, walking ahead like they were kindergarten friends. "Grazie amico! I was hoping to look fantistica!" Italy took his seat next to Germany, beaming to the glaring German. _Oh no, what did I do?!_ "Hey doistu!" Germany blinked, then nodded to the Italian. "You look nice Italy." _I want to pin you to this table and take you now._ Italy deflated a bit, but smiled. "Grazie doistu!"

The meeting went along more smoothly than any. Everyone was drooling over either Italy, Germany, or the Russian, who was shirtless, the scarf wrapped around his neck, then his torso in an 'x'. He only wore a loosely tied pair of silver shorts with this, and his military boots. A small break allowed him just the opening. Calmly walking over to the Italian, he spun him around. Italy squeaked. _Ah, Doi- Oh bathroom._ Russia smiled. "Italy, I couldn't help but notice you. Now I won't be so brunt, but, I would love if you you at least allow me one dance? Just a dance, down in the music room." Italy looked weary, but sighed. _Germany wouldn't even look at me…_ "Only a dance?" Russia smirked, a lady-killing full out smirk. "If it doesn't lead to better things." Italy got up, only to be grabbed by the Russian and pulled close. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. You are just so _sexy._" Italy blushed, the Russian unknowingly brushed Italy's curl. "C-ci.." Russia guided them both down to the room, a pair of furious blue eyes following them.

The meeting started back up in 20 minutes, and everyone was there. Including a very oblivious Italy, and a slowly frustrated Russian trying to land him. "Italy, I don't think you get it. Let's go, and dance a solo routine~" The Russian had wrapped his arm around Italian, who just brushed him off and sat in his seat."No, sorry! I'm beat! You're a great waltz partner though!" Ivan furrowed his brows, and was about to make another move to get him, until Germany stood up, his eyes ice cold. "He said no, so back off." The Russian smirked, chuckling as well. "Calm down comrade, I'm only trying to find myself a dance partner." Italy looked between the two, sensing the fight already. _Why is he being so possessive?_ Germany took one step, and Russia faltered. "I think your dance partner is elsewhere, because you've seem to have mis-stepped. Now go pierot back to your seat." Lowering his voice so most of the other nations couldn't hear, "Besides, it only takes two to tango, and I've got a bit more skill than you." Sitting back down, he left a very embarrassed and pissed off Russian to stomp off to his seat. Italy heard the whole exchange, and couldn't help but blush furiously, now getting what Russia wanted. _Wait… Does that mean?_ "Doistu?" Ludwig hummed, looking over at the Italian. "Ja, Feli?" _Mio Dio, he called me Feli! Yay~_ "You really wanna dance with me?" Germany blushed. "If you want, I would love that."

Germany kept to his word. Him and some of the other countries, and of course Italy, went to Club Kiss. Italy instantly clung to the bar. "I want a bottle of Twisted lemonade!" Germany caught up, bringing Italy closer. "Ah, I just want a beer, preferably German." The bartender nodded, and they sat on the stools. "Doiistuuu~ What's wrong?" "Hmm, nothing Italy." _You look so fucking amazing, and everyone is staring at you, and you are mine verdammt!_ They got their drinks, and Germany nearly choked when he watched Italy down his with inhumane efficiency. "Gut Gott, Italia, slow down!" Italy merely giggled. _Nope, I planned to get trashed. _"It's alright, I got this!" After about 10 rounds of beer for the German, and 5 bottles of 'tea' for the Italian, they were both pleasantly drunk. "Doistttuuu, dance with me!" Italy got up, dragging the German with him. The German hastily put his beer down, then followed. They went into the heat of the crowd, and Feliciano pressed against the blonde. "Come on, you know you want to dance to this!" Ludwig only smirked in response. "You asked for it Italia." Placing his hands firmly on the Italian's hips, he brought him dangerously close to his groin, and began to sway with him to the beat, following the crowd's lead. Italy squeaked, placing his hands on the other's chest, and following his lead. _Too close, way too… Oh Dio._ Italy realized with a start his mind, and body, had already betrayed him. "Doistu, turn me around, please!" The German chuckled. "Nein, I want you like this, is that okay?" For some reason, a part of _Macbeth_ played through his head. The Porter's scene. _Difference between me and him, I can perform under inhibition. Probably the only time I get the nerve to either._ Suddenly the song switched, and so did Germany, bringing the Italian around and grinding into his hips into him. Italy gasped, finding the action agonizing. "G-Ludwig, please…" The German smirked, slowly leading them out of the crowd. "Please what, Katzchen?" Italy turned himself around, grinding his problem into the other, which made the German's eyes open real wide. "Let's go play elsewhere."

Ludwig attacked Italy, his teeth leaving angry marks on his neck. They were pushed against the wall of the German's house, the keys being too much of a hassle. "Ahn, L-Luddy, house!" The German chuckled, picking up the Italian and kicking in his door. "Fix later...Gott Feli, you are light!" Italy glared at him. "Did you expect me to be heavier!" The German quickly silenced him by kissing him, his tongue instantly flicking out to ask permission. Feliciano granted this quickly, and met the German's tongue to challenge him. Italy fought back, but quickly lost after the German growled. Upon this loss, he began exploring the cavern known as Italy's mouth, running his tongue anywhere. Italy rubbed up against Germany, hands fumbling to get rid of that pesky coat. Germany pulled away, leaving Italy to pant and rip his coat off. "Impatient Italy?" Italy let out a noise that was a mix between a growl and purr. "Shut up and help me get your pants off." Germany laughed, and slipped them off, then spun Italy around. "VEH?!" Leaning over him, the German restarted his attack. "Your turn to strip, cadet." He carelessly removed the Italian's vest and shirt, and then worked on his jeans. He purposely rubbed the Italian's tent, smirking as the Italian moaned and bucked against his hand. "Luddyy~ Hurry up!" The German pinched his thigh, causing the other to squeal. "I will get there when I get there, until then, you'll behave." Italy moaned softly, but nodded. The German then proceeded to pick him up, carrying him to his bedroom, and tossing him on the bed. Feliciano looked up, and then smiled, opening his golden eyes, which were darkened with lust. "Ludddy~"

That was all it took to make the German snap, palming the Italian's erection while biting his neck, sucking the mark, then kissing it before moving on. Italy squirmed and wiggled, moaning out at certain spots, as the German slowly made a trail downwards. Gripping the boxers with his teeth, he yanked them down, smirking as the Italian's erection bounced up to meet him. Trailing his finger up the Italian's length briefly, he proceeded to crawl back up. "Italia, suck." He held three fingers to the Italian. Feliciano did as told, coating them heavily. This action caused the German to moan slightly, and buck his hips. "Enough!" Pulling his fingers away, he positioned one and dove in, pumping it in and out. Italy wiggled, moaning more-so at the intrusion. "M-More, please!" The German nodded, adding another finger and scissoring him. "Du bist schon, meine Katzchen." The smaller man moaned in response, too far gone. Eventually, the blonde added a third finger, and curled, making Italy cry out and arch his back. "Mio Dio! There! There!" Ludwig smirked, pumping his fingers to hit that spot dead on, before pulling out. Italy let a whine of protest till he found himself yanked upwards. "Che?" Ludwig smirked. "We don't have lube, lieben, so I need you to lube me." He said this matter-of-factly, which only made Italy shudder. "Ci…" He leaned over, and didn't waste time, taking half his length and bobbing. Germany groaned, grabbing the back of Italy's head. "Gott, ja…" The Italian bobbed faster, taking almost all of him in. Germany pulled him off, moaning slightly. "Stop, lay down. Now." Italy did so, never breaking eye contact with the German. "Hurry up!" Ludwig chuckled, then positioned his rod at the other's entrance. "Ready?" Feli nodded. "Ci!" The blonde thrust in, resting at the hilt. Moaning, he waited a few beats for the other to adjust. Italy bucked a bit. "Move!" Not needing to be told twice, he started a fast pace, slamming hard into the Italian, gripping his hips to the point of bruising. "Gott, sehr tight!" Feliciano moaned loudly, not being able to think straight. "M-more amore~" Ludwig leaned over, and re-aimed, hitting the g-spot dead-on. "LUDDY!" Italy screamed out, moans following as he clawed the German's back. Aiming there, he snapped his hips repeatedly, moaning and growling the Italian's name. "I-I'm close F-Feli…" Feliciano leaned up to kiss him, pulling away only to murmur. "Cum with me, Luddy." Grabbing the Italian's erection, he slammed into one last time, causing Italy to scream his name as he growled his. "Feli.." "LUDDY!"

Italy awoke, sore as hell, and confused. That was, until he looked over and spotted a naked Germany that was out cold. "Mio Dio…. I DID IT!" The outburst caused Germany to wake up, who then passed out again after getting a nosebleed.


End file.
